Pipes
by idkmybffjill011
Summary: They're invincible together, Robin tells him. And Wally believes. Gen, no pairings. Now a three-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Not sure if this should be T or M. I'm going with T because the violence in this isn't graphic, but please tell me if I should change it...**

**This is the story explaining how Wally finds out Robin's identity. Sort of with Alamo High, but really not... I worked on keeping this less stylistic (aka, I didn't use the parenthesis cut offs), so tell me what y'all think. :) The beginnings a little clumsy (well, a lot), but I do like the middle-ish part.**

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It isn't a good idea, Wally knows. He knows that the Joker is something to be avoided, that the Joker is something to be feared. But Robin wants to prove himself to Batman, and he's so very, very persuasive, that Wally finds himself nodding in agreement.

They're invincible together, Robin tells him.

And Wally believes.

They're two little boys, one twelve and the other fourteen, and Wally knows, deep down, that Robin's wrong, that they're not invincible. Still, he agrees to go with Robin to capture the Joker. Because Wally doesn't see how anything _bad_ can happen. _Bad_ things don't happen to little boys, he tells himself. Not in this world, not in this life.

He's new to this whole superhero thing. Every time he's gotten into trouble, Uncle Barry's been there with a smile and a hug, ready to save him. Wally's never been in _real_ trouble before.

Wally doesn't understand the realities of Gotham crime, and Robin, for all his experience, doesn't either. They make quite a pair of idiots, a voice in his head hisses, sallying forth to face an enemy neither understands. Wally ignores the voice, blocking it with the image of Uncle Barry's smiling, carefree face.

So he lets Robin lead him to the warehouse, a smile on his face as he runs beside Robin's motorcycle and wonders how long it will take them to bag the Joker and head home.

As they get closer to the warehouse, Wally finds himself wondering how long it will take Batman to find them. But he pushes these thoughts aside, telling himself that Robin's not afraid, so he shouldn't be either.

When they get to the warehouse, Robin holds a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. He motions to some bushes growing along the side of the warehouse, then points to his motorcycle. Wally nods and tiptoes beside Robin as the boy moves to hide his bike. It takes a minute or two, and soon they're ready to move again.

Getting inside the warehouse is easy. There is, of course, the problem of getting to the top story of the warehouse. Robin refuses to use anything but a window for their entrance, and Wally puts forth the extra effort with only a little ill-will. Once they're in, they move quickly through the guards, knocking the hulking figures out in minutes.

Soon, the upper level of the warehouse is clear. It doesn't even matter to Wally that the upper level is merely a series of connected walkways that form a pathway— he and Robin have managed to clear out an area by themselves.

Wally feels a smile stretch his face. He and Robin are unstoppable together, and, as Wally looks around him at the bodies lying on the walkway, he knows that they can handle this. His smile widens.

Robin comes up behind him and once again makes the quieting gesture with his finger. He jerks his chin towards the first floor of the warehouse. Wally looks down and sees a slouched figure.

The figure is dressed in a tacky purple suit and has greasy green hair that lies tangled across its back. Wally meets Robin's eyes and, because tension seems to be seeping in now, sticks out his tongue in joking disgust.

Robin smiles, but Wally can see the unease in the gesture.

He wonders again how long it will take for Batman to find them.

But Robin starts creeping slowly along the raised walkway, and Wally forces the thought down.

The Boy Wonder avoids standing in direct light, and stays perfectly in the middle of the walkway, well away from the railing. Wally follows him, assuring himself that Robin knows how to handle this.

They manage to slip down from the walkway, though Robin manages this much more gracefully than Wally.

Crouching behind a tower of stacked boxes, the duo watches the unmoving form of the man in purple. Wally is crouched closer to the ground, and Robin has to lean over him to see, his elbow and side grazing Wally's back as he does so.

Wally tries to ignore the trembling in Robin's frame, marking it off as excitement. After all, this would show Flash and Batman that they're _worthy_, that they're _capable._ He smiles to himself, though he can feel how forced it is.

_Worthy,_ he tells himself, _you'll be worthy of Uncle Barry's power, his respect, and his love. You'll be his nephew, and he'll be proud of you._

His thoughts fade out when he hears a quiet slurping sound. Looking up at Robin, Wally frowns and mouths 'what is that?' to his friend. Robin just shakes his head, though Wally sees the pale tinge spreading across his cheeks.

The slurping sound continues for a few seconds, and Wally's finally able to place it. It's the sound, he realizes, that some of the kids with braces make when they lick their lips. He can hear the wetness of the sound and, for a reason he doesn't understand, shudders.

Batman will come. If anything goes wrong, Wally knows that Batman will come. He has to.

Wally calms down.

A sudden laugh, high-pitched and malicious, cuts off the slurping. Wally feels his back stiffen at the sound, and he's vaguely grateful that he didn't drink anything before he and Robin set off.

"The Boy Blunder arrives," the man in purple, the Joker, calls. "But— what's this? There's no Bat_man_ here with him!" The Joker stresses the word man mockingly. Wally, unfamiliar with people actually making _fun_ of Batman, feels his shudders grow more violent.

Robin lets out a hiss above him. "His voice is muffled," he whispers to Wally. "Why would it be muffled?" Robin asks, more to himself than to Wally. Wally can feel Robin shuddering. He knows it's not caused by excitement.

Wally shakes his head, trying to tell Robin that, no, he doesn't understand either, but isn't this whole thing so very funny? It's absolutely hi-lar-ious, Wally thinks, feeling something bubble in his stomach. The bubbles travel up his throat, and Wally tries to keep them back. A second passes and why should Wally _not_ laugh? Everything is so very funny, and Wally can't help but laugh, so why shouldn't he?

He hears Robin curse. This only makes Wally laugh harder, his body shuddering no longer from fear but from mind-numbing amusement.

"Kid Flash," Robin demands, kneeling down to Wally's level (which is _funny_ because Wally's normally taller than Robin and _he_ normally kneels!). Robin's lips are clamped shut, and one of his hands is fumbling at his waist, yanking at his utility belt. He holds the other over his nose, and Wally laughs louder and harder at how _ridiculous_ Robin looks right now. "Hold your breath, KF," Robin tells him.

But if he holds his breath, how will he breathe? The idea is so ludicrous, so _stupid_, that Wally's laughter grows harsher, and he can barely breathe (_Ha ha!)_.

Robin's starting to laugh too now!

_Laughter's contagious,_ Wally thinks, and now he's doubled over in painfully funny gasps and snickers. _Batman should be here soon_, he assures himself, but the _hilarity_ of the situation numbs the thought into something unimportant.

"Oh!" the Joker cries, practically skipping over to them. A gas mask covers the man's face. "There are _two_ of you!" The man tosses his head back and cackles madly, and Wally finds himself cackling in amusement as well.

_Contagious, contagious,_ he thinks to himself, _laughing is contagious!_

(_Where's Batman_?)

Robin sits gasping at his side. His nasally giggle is breathy and demented, and Wally thinks that something's off about it— but who cares? It's all just _so_ funny to Wally, and what does one funny thing matter in a world of hilarity?

He's having trouble seeing now. Tears are forming in the corners of his eyes. They're tears of joy, of laughter, and Wally smothers any thought that suggests otherwise. Puffs of green gas float around him, making it even harder to see. Wally squints, trying to focus.

He can make out the blurred form of the Joker closing in on them and laughs uproariously at the feeling of panic the realization evokes.

_Closing in_! He thinks. _Just like they do on Animal Planet_.

The comparison is too much, and Wally is forced to close his eyes as a wave of _funny_ rushes his body. When he opens them again, he giggles at how _close_ the Joker is to them, and is that a pipe in his hand? Wally can't tell, but his ignorance is funny and therefore more important.

"Robin has a friend!" the clown exclaims, giggling madly to himself. He shuffles over to the shaking and shuddering duo, a smile bleeding red behind the clear plastic of the mask. "Your first play date! Isn't that a_dor_able!"

Wally tries to nod, because, yes, it is adorable that Robin has a little friend, and yes, it _is_ hilarious that everyone, even the Joker, assumes that Robin wouldn't have friends his own age. He's still nodding and laughing when the Joker bring the pipe down on his temple.

Stars flash, bright and blinding, across Wally's vision. He feels his head snap to the side, bringing his body with it. Wally laughs desperately at the cracking sound he hears in his ears and the ringing sound he hears in his head. He's lying on his back now, eyes fuzzy with tears and the white light of pain.

And, God, does it hurt, but isn't it _funny_?

Robin's giggling wildly now, and Wally thinks that he sees tears trailing down his friend's face. He doesn't think this is funny, Wally realizes. He looks scared.

Wally snickers to himself. His head lolls limply to the side, and he's treated to a first class view of the Joker bringing the pipe down onto his stomach, up, and back onto his head.

The stars are back. They burn, and Wally notices sullenly that the burning isn't funny anymore. It's painful, he realizes, feeling something slip out of his mouth. Wally licks his lips and winces at the metallic taste he's rewarded with.

_Blood._

Things don't seem so very funny anymore, Wally thinks, watching at the Joker disappears from his sight, presumably to deal with Robin. Things aren't funny anymore.

There's a thwacking sound to Wally's side. He hears hysterical giggles pitch high in pain. More _thwacks_ follow, and Wally feels sick.

His body's trying to heal itself. Wally can feel the muscles moving in his stomach, and, while self-healing is always painful, he nearly blacks out at the sheer _pain_ of his muscles and bones growing back _wrong._

Wally can hear the Joker laughing over the thwacking sounds and Robin's faint giggling. A lucid thought forms over the pain, and Wally _knows_ that the Joker isn't going to stop hitting Robin after three thwacks.

He forces his body to roll over so that he's on his stomach rather than his back. In this position, Wally can see the Joker swinging the pipe (pole? bar?) onto Robin in vicious little bursts. Robin, Wally notices, is barely moving. His hands twitch every so often, and Wally's suddenly terrified.

Wally wants to tell the Joker to stop it, but his lips refuse to form words. He supposes that it doesn't matter anyway; the Joker isn't going to stop just because Wally says "please". Instead, Wally pulls himself closer to the two figures, focusing on the ripples of pain rather than the_ hilarity_ that is an unconscious and bleeding Robin. Wally moves using his forearms, bringing one forward and using it as an anchor to move his body with.

Slowly, he gets closer.

He sees the leg of the Joker's pants in front of him. Hissing from pain and suppressed laughter, Wally reaches out and latches onto the fabric. It _hurts_ to move, but Wally knows that the pain is better than laughter. Pain is sobering and solid; versatile laughter isn't.

The Joker looks down at Wally. The clown's face paint is running in oily lines down his face, and Wally wonders if it's because the stuff is cheap or because the Joker's working up that much of a sweat trying to beat Robin's face in. Wally's lips tremble at this thought, and he can't tell if it's because the thought is _funny _or _scary_.

Wally sees the Joker's lips moving. He can't hear what the man's saying (the ringing is so loud right now), but he knows that the clown's mocking him. Wally tugs at the fabric in his hands. He tries to pull the Joker's leg away from Robin. The stupidity of the idea is funny, but Wally can't find it in himself to laugh.

He licks his lips, trying to clear the beads of blood forming under his lips. It doesn't work very well, and Wally instantly regrets the motion. The taste of blood floods his mouth and brings images of Robin's limp body flashing to the front of Wally's mind.

There's a glint of silver above the Joker's head that Wally recognizes as the pipe. He watches, apathetic, as it dives towards his face.

He wonders if this will kill him. Uncle Barry's face comes to mind, but Wally can't bear to face the man's smile right now.

The ringing in Wally's head is deafening.

A sudden _shiwck_ cuts through the ringing in Wally's head. He blinks.

The pipe's gone from the Joker's hands.

"Batsy!" he hears the Joker call. The clown says other things, but the ringing is back and Wally's eyes are dropping under the piercing sound.

Batman's here, he tells himself.

Everything's black now, but that's okay—Batman's here.

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When Wally wakes up, he's in a white room, tucked into a white bed with white colors. He tries to shake his head (white's not a very pleasant color), but stops when it throbs painfully in response.

"Shit," he mutters quietly to himself. It comes out muffled, and Wally hopes that his jaw healed correctly.

"Yeah," a voice agrees from Wally's right. He turns to look at it.

The voice is a boy lying on the bed next to him. Wally frowns, trying to place the familiar haircut, grin, and body structure. Glazed blue eyes watch him with amusement. "What," the boy rasps, "can't recognize me?"

"Robin." Wally doesn't need to ask; he'd know that smug tone anywhere. "Mask," Wally mumbles. _Where's your mask?_

"He took it off," a new voice grumbles. Wally recognizes it as Batman's and looks up. Batman is comfort, and Wally really needs comfort right now.

Instead of seeing Batman's armored visage, Wally is greeted by the sight of a raven-haired man with piercing blue eyes and arched eyebrows. "He claims," the man continues, "that you won't tell anyone."

Bruce Wayne, Wally's mind supplies. Batman's voice is coming from Bruce Wayne's lips.

"Will you?" Wayne continues. His eyes are hard, and Wally knows, just by looking at them, that those are Batman's eyes and that _this_ is Batman.

Wally wants to say no, but his mouth isn't working right and he really doesn't want to say something stupid in front of Batman. So he shakes his head in response, gazing at the towering man with reverent awe.

Wayne's lips flicker into something that seems like a smile. "We'll see," the man tells him. Wayne's eyes dart over to Robin's side of the room. There they linger and soften. "Thank you," he whispers, "for protecting Richard."

_Richard_? Wally asks himself as Wayne exits his private hospital room.

Robin's name was Richard.

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**AN: There will be a sequel to this titled "Parental Advisory" (I think). It will be its own, separate story, however. In other words: this is technically a oneshot. "Pipes" itself will _not_ be updated after this.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Well, Pipes _was_ a oneshot. Then I saw a prompt on the YJ meme for a Joker Robin interaction, based off a song called 'I Can't Decide' by the Scissor Sisters. **

**Anyhow, Pipes is now a three-shot, with Robin's POV coming, well, whenever I decide to write it. It will probably be a little longer than Wally's POV and the Joker's POV, simply because, of the three, Robin knows the most background information. **

**For those of you reading Alamo High, this drabble is the specific reason for AH's weird tense problems. I was writing this while I wrote AH (which was stupid to do in the first place), and I couldn't get out of the present tense mentality. XP This was, creepily, funner to write though. I'm not sure how well I got the Joker's personality, but hopefully I'm not too far off. **

**This Joker is based off the Dark Knight's Joker, because I like him and am familiar with him.**

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There's something so_ funny_ about Robin. He's a little enigma, full of contradictions that are so _hilarious_ that the Joker can't help but giggle and chuckle and laugh.

Robin's so powerful— so strong— yet he's so small and delicate. He's a child, a little boy, that laughs when he does something right and glares when he does something wrong. The Joker can sense Robin's immaturity, he can _feed_ off of it, and he looks forward to fighting the boy, to the feel of the boy's innocence.

Robin's so mature at times. The child can take blows without a sound, and he can watch bodies bleed to death with a detached calm that is so very, very _funny_ to see on a little boy's face. He's a strange mix of corrupted purity and childish maturity. A walking joke, the Joker thinks, just like him.

The Joker loves the little bird. Not so much as he does his Batman, of course, but he admires the contrasting values that make up Robin, and he adores the hilarity the boy invokes. The boy is so easy to laugh at, to giggle at— how can the Joker not like him?

He's laughing right now, cackling wildly at the sight of the bleeding boy in front of him. There's red on the boy's chest (which is _funny_ because Robin's chest is _always_ red, which means he's _always_ bleeding!), and the Joker watches, giggling, as the red spreads and falls into a black puddle around the fallen bird.

The boy's laughing too, the Joker notices. His body moves spastically with the gurgled snickering. It's _funny_, and the Joker hits Robin harder, smiling as red splatters on his gasmask, blurring his vision.

Funny, he thinks, licking his lips. How _funny._

Robin's so terribly funny. He's not moving now— his hands aren't even twitching. But the Joker continues to hit him with the bar, bringing it higher and higher above his head, and harder and harder onto Robin's body. He laughs because Robin can't move but _has _to because the Joker keeps hitting him and because the blood underneath him makes him slide across the floor. It's _funny_, and the Joker's laughter pitches into high giggles.

Is he breathing? The Joker can't tell. Robin's body is so still right now. So very still, the Joker thinks, and laughs. The Boy Wonder, dead by a pipe to his head. How tragic, how funny, how _right_.

The Joker laughs louder.

Should he kill him? The Joker doesn't know. There's already so much blood and Robin's already stopped moving and it would be so _funny_ if he did kill him— but who will the Joker laugh at if Robin dies? Batman's not quite so funny, and he's so very much harder to _hurt_.

Live or die, he thinks, grinning. Live or die?

There's a familiar coldness spreading through his body. It's _funny_, because the Joker's terrified of it and he's normally too _crazy_ to be afraid of anything. He laughs at the cold in desperate giggles and cackles. Still, the coldness spreads, reaching and grabbing throughout the Joker's body. His laughter grows weaker, and he hits Robin harder. The cold will go away.

Laughter makes it go away.

Robin's barley breathing. It's funny, yet the Joker feels the coldness intensify. Should he kill him? His grip on the pipe tightens, and he once again raises it above his head.

The world will still be funny after Robin dies, the Joker thinks, and a fresh peal of giggles spout from his lips. Little Robin's about to go to heaven.

(He can fly up there! Ha _Ha!_)

He feels something tugging on his pants. A giggle rushes up his throat (a sign to spare Boy Blunder?), and he glances down at the redheaded boy lying at his feet. _Funny_, he thinks. The boy's bleeding, and the red matches his hair and his costume, which is just hi-_lar-_ious.

The Joker says something to the redheaded boy. He can't hear what he says; his laughter distorts the words and disrupts his voice. The Joker tries to stop laughing, to speak clearly, but how can he? Robin's nearly dead behind him, while the redhead's nearly dead _in front_ of him.

His body shudders when he tries to repress the laughter. Giving up, the Joker cackles madly and raises his pipe.

One more blow, he thinks. Just one, and the redhead will be dead.

The redhead's a child, just like Robin. But he can't handle the pain as well as Robin can, for all that he's bigger and older. Ironic, the Joker wonders, or strange?

Funny, the Joker decides, and starts to bring down the pipe.

The redhead stares at him. He's waiting (funny, funny, funny— a child waiting to die).

The Joker prepares for impact.

A _shwick_ sound cuts through the air.

The Joker's laughter quiets into soft giggles as his eyes move towards the looming figure hidden in the shadows.

Batman's here.

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**The gift!fic for Alamo High was won by Sensei's Little Thunder Ninja, by the way. :) I'm working on that right now, and once I'm done with it I'll move on to Parental Advisory, then Brucie, then AH, and so on. **

**Thanks for reading, guys!**

_*and that should be a 'whom' up there instead of a 'who'. I think 'who' sounds less awkward, however, so it's staying. (If you don't know what I'm talking about, that's okay. I'm just ranting at the English language.)*_


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: This is the final (I'm pretty positive this time, guys) installment of Pipes. It is, as I've said, from Robin's POV. The ending's a bit rushed, largely because I had a lot of trouble with it. ^^, This was supposed to have come out yesterday, but, like I said, the ending was troublesome and I had things to do for the majority of today (eight hours majority GAH). **

**This might be my last update for my fics in general until around Saturday. Tomorrow, I have more to work on and on Friday, I hope to do something more socially oriented. :) (Which means i want to see Bradley Cooper in his new movie.)**

**There might be some differences between Robin's POV and Wally's. I didn't think to check myself on the events, and some of the stuff Robin does in Wally's POV might not happen in Robin's POV. Fail on my part? Quite possibly.**

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Richard 'Dick' Grayson loves his adoptive father. He adores him, idolizes him, and when he was younger he even followed the man around. Bruce Wayne is everything to Dick: his support, his protection, his family.

But Bruce isn't the easiest person to please. Dick, for all his effort and all his love, doesn't always earn the congratulations he wants from Bruce. He does, however, always earn a lecture or a correction. It's a loosing battle for Dick and he wants, more than anything, to do something so great that Bruce can't fault or dismiss it.

Some days, the want is a physical presence in Dick's mind. Some days, Dick needs Bruce to tell him good job, because his training is going _so_ slowly and everything he does seems to be wrong. Some days, the want to do something _great_ is a need rather than a desire.

It's this want, Dick supposes, that leads to the mess.

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He and Bruce are fighting, and Dick is _mad_ and _frustrated_ at how little regard Bruce has for him. His words are growing louder, more immature, and the fight is passing into an area of _bad_ that neither he nor Bruce have ever dared go into.

It drags out for another minute, and Dick has no intention of backing down. He's hitting below the belt, snidely bringing up topics that cause Bruce pain. He can see the frustration rising on Bruce's face, and knows Bruce will end the argument soon. He's right.

Annoyed, Bruce finally brings his fist down onto the table and snarls, "Enough!" Dick is sent to his room for the night while Bruce leaves to suit up. Alfred escorts him, and Dick tries to ignore the look of disappointment lining the butler's face.

In his room, Dick throws a tantrum, breaking a lamp, his calculator, and an unfortunate Buzz Lightyear mug. The noise distracts him and the pointless destruction is calming. Eventually, he runs out of things to throw.

Dick turns on his radio to listen to the police reports, mulishly deciding that he could at least _listen_ to the crime Bruce is about to fight. He flips through a few police lines, but nothing interesting catches his attention. Then a report comes on, slightly desperate, announcing that the Joker is running amuck in Gotham while Batman is busy dealing with Poison Ivy.

Lying on his bed, belly down, Dick smirks.

* * *

He knows it's stupid. He doesn't really care, not too much. If he can get the Joker, he tells himself, Bruce will have to tell him good job. Bruce will have to acknowledge that Robin is his protégé, his partner, his _son._

Robin gathers his utility belt and the keys to his motorcycle. He places his mask on carefully, marking the movement as the beginning of his recognition.

When he's properly suited and equipped, Robin goes to leave, but stops. His body shudders at the thought of facing the Joker alone. Robin tries to ignore it, even takes a step towards the exit, but the fear is too great and he can't bring himself to leave the safety of the cave.

He can't do this alone, even if he wants to. Robin growls to himself, clenching the motorcycle handles in frustration.

Robin _needs_ to do this. He needs to prove to himself and to Bruce that he's worthy. The need's consuming, and Robin won't ignore it any longer. He _has_ to do this, and if he has to do it with help, so be it.

He pulls out a red and yellow communicator with a small lightening bolt striking down its middle.

* * *

Wally doesn't want to do it, not at first. Robin talks to him though, pushing his idea without relent. He tells Wally they'll be fine and laughs at the idea of someone hurting children. He tells Wally that they're unstoppable together and brushes off Wally's doubts.

And Wally believes him.

* * *

Robin jumps from the roof and moves towards his parked bike while Wally runs down the side of the building to meet him. They smile at each other, almost dizzy from the adrenaline, and head off.

Robin's already located the Joker, and he's not terribly surprised at the fact that the clown is in a warehouse. He pulls up the coordinates while he drives, shouting out the turns to Wally. They get there quickly, and Robin feels a rush of smugness at how efficient he can be without Batman.

He eyes the building as he pulls to a stop, watching for any signs of movement. When he doesn't notice any, Robin jerks his head towards some bushes, and Wally follows him as he hides his bike.

Robin insists they enter through a window. He sees Wally's hesitation and scowls. Wally sighs, but after a good push from Robin, heads towards the window.

The window leads into a second story walkway. There's no place to hide, but Wally and Robin move too quickly for that to be a problem. The goons standing on the walkway are easily beaten, and soon Wally and Robin are peering over the walkway's bars to look for the Joker.

Robin sees him first. He makes a shushing gesture to Wally before he jerks his head in the clown's direction. Wally nods, more to himself than to Robin. He then glances at the Joker and, meeting Robin's eyes, sticks out his tongue. Robin smiles, and assures himself that it's _not_ forced.

The Boy Wonder moves carefully down the walkway, keeping away from the patches of light. He sees the easiest way to get to the first floor and heads towards it. Robin hears Wally following him, and makes sure to stay in the other's line of sight.

When he jumps down, Robin heads straight towards a pile of boxes he'd seen while on the walkway. Wally, after managing to get down himself, jets over to Robin's side. Without hesitating, Wally peers around boxes, staring at the Joker.

Robin leans over Wally to look around the boxes. He can see the familiar figure of the Joker standing, hunched over, in the middle of the floor. There's something odd about him, but Robin reasons it away as nervous thoughts. He's gotten here, he's gotten past the Joker— he will _not_ ruin this moment with pointless worrying.

_We're invincible_. Robin smiles to himself. _I'm invincible._

The thought flees when he hears the Joker licking his lips. It's a wet sound, sloppy and slurping. Robin's heard it before, but it's _different_ this time because there's no Batman standing between him and the sound's source.

But he doesn't need Batman… right?

Robin's elbow hits Wally's side, and he takes comfort in the knowledge that whatever he's facing, he's not facing alone. He can't bring himself to think about _what_ it is they're facing, because there's something terrifying in the wonderment and he can't afford to panic.

He feels Wally nudge him. 'What is that?' his friend mouths. Robin shakes his head, not wanting to answer. His face is tingling right now, and Robin knows it's pale and pasty because he knows he's _scared_.

The slurping stops. His body's trembling now, and he wants to stop it, but he can't. The Joker's laughing, and Robin realizes for the first time that night that Batman really isn't _here_.

"The Boy Blunder arrives!" Robin tenses at the words. "But— what's this? There's no Bat_man_ here with him!" He _knows_ that Batman's not there. The thought is horrible, and Robin wonders what he's going to do now.

But there's something else wrong with this, and it takes Robin a moment to figure it out. "His voice is muffled," he hisses to Wally. "Why is it muffled?"

_Why is it muffled?_ Something's covering the Joker's mouth. What is it?

Robin can see small plumes of gas rising around the Joker, blurring the edges of his body. He hears Wally start to laugh. Panic seizes, and Robin curses without realizing it. His hands dart down to his utility belt as he reaches for his gas mask.

_Masks muffle voices, you idiot. Masks protect against gas._

His hands slip when they touch the mask. He curses again, but the sound is muffled by Wally's rapidly increasing laughter. Robin looks down and sees his friend curled up on the floor. "Kid Flash," he demands, kneeling beside the other boy. Wally snorts and starts to laugh harder. "Hold your breath, KF." Wally's already taken in too much gas, though, and Robin wonders how long they've been exposed to it because he was _careless_ and he didn't notice.

Robin realizes that he should take his own advice. He can see the gas clearly now, small green clouds floating around the warehouse and _how did he not notice them earlier_? Robin reaches for his gas mask again, knowing that if he could _just get it on_, he might be able to handle this.

Oh, but who's he kidding? He can't handle this! He's nothing more than a little boy dressed in tights and a cape and that's _funny_—

Robin bites back giggles. He's breathed in some of the gas. His hands are shaking again, and he hears a clatter as the mask drops onto the tiled floor of the warehouse. And _oh God, what now_ and Robin's giggling at the sheer _terror_ he feels.

"Oh!" The Joker's skipping over to them. It should be _ridiculous_, but it's not, it's terrifying and horrible and _why is he laughing_? "There's _two _of you!"

Of course the Joker's wearing a gas mask, Robin thinks. _He's_ not going to risk dying, not when there's Wally and Robin (Dick) around to kill and, _oh God_, he's giggling again and he can't stop.

There's a pipe in the man's hands. It's as big as Wally's wrist and a sort of shiny metallic and there's something _funny _about the fact that Robin knows that it's going to kill him, to kill Wally.

_Please no._

Wally's laughing beside him. Robin wants to tell him to stop, that this _isn't funny_, but he can't bring himself to say it, and, really, he know it's a lie—

_It's not funny, it's not funny. _

"Robin has a friend!"

_No he doesn't, please, no, he doesn't._

"Your first play date! Isn't that a_dor_able?"

Robin shakes his head. It's hard to move his head. He's laughing so hard his stomach hurts and moving hurts and thinking hurts and _he hurts._ It won't stop, the laughter won't stop, and what's he laughing at?

There's gas clouding his vision now. The Joker's becoming an undefined figure in it. It reminds Robin of the slasher movies he watches when Bruce is out, and he lets out a cackle because everyone _knows_ what happens to the victims, and how are he and Wally any different?

The Joker's moving towards Wally. Robin lets out a nasal giggle and covers his mouth. He watches as the Joker raises up his pipe. He bites his lip, laughing and crying, as the Joker brings the pipe down. There's a crunch and Robin knows it's from Wally's head.

And it's _his_ fault. _They're invincible_? Robin wants to sob, but all that comes out is a wailing cackle. There're tears running down his face. Are they from the gas? Is he crying?

Wally's still laughing when the Joker hits him the second time. It's pained and scared and reminds Robin of a little animal— in pain and not sure _why_. Robin lets out a giggle and he wants, more than anything, for the laughter to go away, for his stomach to stop aching, for Wally to be okay.

One more hit and Wally goes silent. Robin can hear him wheezing.

There's the sound of feet moving. In a moment of weakness, Robin feels himself give into the fear. He tries to scoot away from the sound, knowing he has nowhere to go, but he can't move because he's laughing so hard and so much.

His laughter sounds like sobbing, and Robin feels this is appropriate.

The Joker is standing right beside him. Robin can see the red of his mouth through the gas and the mask, and he's _scared_. The pipe is above the Joker's head.

Robin closes his eyes.

* * *

It hurts to wake up. His body throbs and aches, and there's a small urge to laugh that's lying in the back of his throat, waiting.

"What were you thinking?"

He knows who spoke, eyes open or not. "You didn't let me come with you," he rasps in response. Speaking makes things hurt more.

"So you do _this_? How stupid are you, Richard?"

Dick wants to shrug, but decides against it. Bruce is angry right now, and he's not stupid enough to further galvanize the man's bad mood with passive aggressive tactics.

Bruce doesn't seem to mind the lack of response. "I should take the position of Robin away from you," he hisses.

Dick winces and squeezes his eyes tighter together. He just wants to sleep.

"Tonight has, if anything, shown that you can't handle it."

Dick tries to turn his head away from Bruce's voice. He doesn't want to listen to Bruce. He just wants to go back to sleep.

"Not only did you put yourself in danger, you also put West in danger as well. _Look at me, Richard_."

Reluctantly, Dick forces his eyes open and faces the livid face of his guardian. Why can't he just go back to sleep?

"Do you realize how much damage West suffered from? He heals immediately, Dick, but that doesn't mean his bones can set themselves. Do you understand what that means, Dick? It means I had to break West's bones again so they could grow correctly."

Dick bites his tongue. The image of Wally, lying on the ground and laughing pops up in his mind. It won't go away.

"Is he okay?" Dick asks softly.

Bruce pauses. "He's recovering." The man sighs and rubs his forehead. "Your friend might be an idiot, Dick, but he's nothing if not loyal." It comes out as a compliment, surprising Dick.

There's a lot unsaid in that statement, Dick realizes. Loyalty isn't something Bruce holds in the highest regard; it is, the man asserts, idiot prone. Dick wonders at the hidden implications.

For a minute, he can't say anything in response.

"Why didn't the Joker kill me?" he finally whispers. It's been nagging at him. His body _feels_ half dead right now, and Dick can't imagine he was in better health at the warehouse. Why didn't the Joker finish him?

Bruce is silent. His eyes meet Dick's and the realization hits so hard Dick's left reeling.

_Idiot, loyal_. Dick's eyes start to water. He knows now. Bruce's grudging regard and hidden gratitude—they're because Wally didn't let the Joker kill Dick. He closes his eyes and wonders _how_ Wally managed it. If he thinks hard enough, Dick can see Wally's form, limp but shaking, lying on the warehouse floor. How did Wally even manage to move?

_You needed him more than he needed you_, a voice jeers.

Almost on cue, a pitiful whimper sounds from the other side of the room. Dick turns, startled, to find an unconscious Wally on the bed next to his. Wally had been there during the entire discussion, Dick realizes. How had he not known? His brow furrows. Why wouldn't Bruce have said anything?

An answer comes to Dick, but it's too un-Bruce to be believable.

"Flash will be here to pick up West." Bruce starts to stand up. "Go back to sleep, Dick. We can finish our discussion after he's gone."

"Wait!" Dick cries, reaching out to grasp Bruce's still armored wrist. The man hasn't changed out of his Batman suit yet. Bruce raises an eyebrow at him, and Dick has to force himself to keep his hold. "Wally should know," he says hoarsely. "He deserves to."

Bruce knew Wally was in the room when he referred to Robin as Dick. It's subtle, but Dick recognizes the carelessness as a gesture of trust.

"No," Bruce replies.

But Dick can see the softness in Bruce's eyes and knows his father well enough to see the grudging like he has for Wally. So he pushes some more, asking again if he can tell Wally.

"No," Bruce replies, firmer this time.

Dick squeezes Bruce's wrist in annoyance. "Please," he whispers. "He saved my life, Bruce. I trust him with this."

Bruce scowls at him. Dick can see the indecision on the other's face, and knows it's born from habit rather than distrust. "He's a child, Dick," Bruce says. "He can't be trusted with this kind of information."

"You trusted me," Dick mutters softly.

They stare at each other. Both know that Dick's already won and that any argument Bruce provides from this point on is superfluous. But Bruce hates loosing his arguments, especially one centered around something as important as this. Finally, Bruce lets out an aggravated grunt and nods.

"Fine." He turns to go, but hesitates.

With a small sigh, Bruce faces Dick. He reaches out and places a hand on Dick's shoulder. "Don't do this again, Richard." The hand squeezes, and Dick feels himself relax. "I thought I'd lost you." It's a whispered statement, so soft Dick thinks he imagined it. Before the last word is out, Bruce is already headed towards the door.

When Dick closes his eyes, he has a small smile on his face.

* * *

**AN: Thanks to everyone for reading! :) **


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